


cornflowers (of course my love)

by blueesnowflakes



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GEORGE IS A BITCH, Im done with tags, M/M, Simp Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), You might cry, any criers??, but he wants to take things so slow, but im too swaggy to be caught, cornflowers, i cried, so go easy on him, sorry - Freeform, teacher nearly caught me, this is my third time trying to upload this, wrote part of this in school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:47:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29287047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueesnowflakes/pseuds/blueesnowflakes
Summary: where all dream wants is an answer as he walks through a field of cornflowers, their home.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	cornflowers (of course my love)

Listening to the wind near echoing the cries, the trees harshly swaying as he passed through the field; he hoped George would like the flowers. 

_ “Dream.” the older grumbled slightly, staring into the neverending pools of green. _

_ “What?” _

_ “You know my answer.” _

_ The gut wrenching feeling in his stomach grew as he took in the words.  _

_ “No.” _

They were blue, the flowers that is. 

Cornflowers to be specific.

They were his favourite. 

They had them all over the house. 

_ “I’m not- just not yet, please.” _

Was it that time yet?

_ “I have to wait, I know but-” he groaned. _

_ He didn’t want to.  _

_ “Come on, at least give me a reason as to why I’m stuck waiting.”  _

_ “You’ll find out in due time.” _

When was that? 

When was that George?

The stone building lay ahead, waiting. 

Waiting for its occupants to arrive. 

_ “You need to be more careful,” George spoke as he wound the bandage around Dream’s forearm, pulling it together tightly.  _

_ “But I finished it,” the blonde whined, making the brown eyes curiously look up from the arm in front of him to the green eyes belonging to the boy he loved so dearly yet still refused.  _

_ “You couldn’t have though, we only just started last week-” _

_ “And I’m a fast worker George, plus,” he dragged out the end, making sure all attention was on him.  _

_ “No Dream, just- just no.”  _

_ “How do you know what I was asking about?”  _

_ “Because I know you Dream-” _

_ “And you also know that you told me to ask you again once we finished and well,” he looked back out the window of their house in the distance to where the stone building lay.  _

_ “My answer is still no, just not yet at least.” _

He gently brushed his fingers over the flowers as he walked past. 

The light blue against his pale hands. 

It reminded him of when George would hold his hand. 

The small petals fitting perfectly in his palm just like how the other’s whole hand could be engulfed by his. 

_ “Hun, consider it.” _

_ “Consider what?” George cocked his head at the question, he knew what the other wanted.  _

_ He wanted to hear the question.  _

_ He wanted to hear the build-up.  _

_ He wanted to watch it all unfold in front of him.  _

_ The question to the begging to the rejection, once again.  _

_ How many times had it happened now?  _

_ He had lost count.  _

_ Too many times.  _

_ Too many questions.  _

_ “George,” Dream pulled the boy to his feet, kneeling before him. “We’ve been together for what- three years now? Yeah, nearly four. So, will you please consider marrying me?”  _

_ The question lingered in the air.  _

_ They both knew the answer.  _

_ It was always the same.  _

_ The same routine.  _

_ The same ‘George, will you marry me?’ followed by the too familiar ‘No, not yet my love, soon’. _

_ “No.” _

Would he ever get an answer?

Maybe. 

Maybe he would once hear those words he was so desperate to hear. 

The soft, gentle echo of ‘Of course my love’ followed by the blonde picking him up, promptly throwing him over his shoulder and running them through the cornflower field they spent so many nights in. 

The cornflower field that Dream was currently walking through. 

The cornflower field where he often found George, lying in the sun, surrounded by blue. 

The cornflower field which sat next to the stone building he spent hours working on, just for George. (Ugh, what a simp)

The cornflower field where the bloodied rag was thrown. 

The cornflower field where blood was shed. 

The cornflower field where they had many a battles. 

The cornflower field where tears fell. 

The cornflower field where so many things happened. 

Yet one stood out more than the rest. 

_ “George!”  _

He remembered the night so well. 

The screams. 

The cries. 

Everything. 

Asking- begging for help. 

Yet he failed. 

He couldn’t help George. 

He couldn’t save George. 

_ “No! George!”  _

The green vines hung from the stone building, showing its slow decay. 

It stood tall and proud, just like George once had. (minus the tall) 

It was fading. 

Fading like the memories. 

Fading like the hope the answer would be different. 

Fading like George. 

_ “One last time.”  _

_ “Even though there’s no point?”  _

_ “You know it.” _

_ “Dream-” _

_ “No George, marry me. Please. I need you to be with me forever, I need to know that I’ll have you forever. I need to know that when I wake up, you’ll always be right there. I need to know but the only way I can know is if you say yes George. So please, say yes for me George. Say yes for me and let me always know. Let me always know that you’ll be there for me forever.” Raising his voice at the end, Dream looked back at their intertwined fingers then up at his beloved, into the chocolate pools.  _

_ They glistened.  _

_ They glistened with love and with hope.  _

_ They glistened with a thousand stars and a thousand moons.  _

_ They glistened with pure adoration, pure want.  _

_ But they didn’t spark.  _

_ They didn’t spark with those same things in which they glistened.  _

_ No- they stopped short.  _

_ It wasn’t just yet.  _

_ Soon.  _

_ “Soon.” He echoed before the brunette could even open his mouth instead letting it fall into a smile.  _

_ A smile that glistened?  _

_ A smile that sparked?  _

_ No- just a smile.  _

_ A smile of love.  _

The wood was cold under his touch having not been used in weeks. 

The door creaked upon opening. 

It hadn’t been touched. 

Nothing of the building had since then. 

Since those few weeks ago. 

The rush of cold air hit him as he stepped inside, engulfing him in a ghostly hug. 

He looked around, observing the light shining through the broken windows. 

The way it reflected. 

The shadows it made.

The shadows of various objects that had been sitting nearby, lucky enough to catch the light. 

_ “The door is a bit creaky but apart from that…” George trailed off as he looked up at the front.  _

_ The small altar sitting by itself situated right in the middle.  _

_ Ready for a wedding.  _

_ Wedding, the event that often occurs in churches.  _

_ Because that’s what the building was; a church.  _

_ A church ready to host a wedding.  _

_ Their wedding.  _

_ Their wedding for when the answer came.  _

_ Their wedding for when the answer was right.  _

_ Their wedding, their church, their home.  _

_ It was all there, right in front of them, waiting for when they were ready- for when George was ready.  _

Are you ready yet George?

_ “Dream its-” _

_ “Brilliant? Great? Beautiful? Magnificent? Amazing? Awesome?”  _

_ “No, I was gonna say- it’s wonderful.” _

_ The taller scoffed, standing next to his boyfriend’s side.  _

_ “George, look at me,” He waited for the other to turn so he could take his hands and talk to him, properly.  _

_ Eye to eye.  _

_ “I’m not joking Dream, it really is wonderful. I just-”  _

  
  


_ “Soon, I know my love. I just want us to be ready.”  _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ Pulling George flush to his chest, resting his chin on top of his hair, he spoke once more. “When is soon Georgie?”  _

_ The muffled voice of the older echoed in his ears, “Not yet.” _

So he repeated it, “Not yet.” 

When was not yet? 

It was soon. 

But when was soon? 

It was a never ending cycle. 

Maybe that was why he never got his answer. 

Or maybe he never got his answer because of what lay outside in the garden. 

The garden of mysteries. 

The garden of love. 

The garden of death. 

The garden of George. 

_ “Oh my lord,” His breath hitched as he stepped outside.  _

_ “What? What, is something wrong?” _

_ “No my love, quite the opposite.”  _

_ “Do you like the garden?”  _

_ “I love it Dream, I love it almost as much as I love you-” _

_ “If you love me that much then give me an answer,” Dream stepped forward, picking up a cornflower from beside the fence. “And I don’t want it to be ‘soon’ or ‘not yet’, give me an answer George. Even if it’s ‘never’ just give me an answer. Please. Give me an answer before I’m gone.” He tucked the flower behind the brunette locks, stepping away from the church, waving before leaving back to their home.  _

_ As he left he swore he heard George speak, _

_ “Of course my love.”  _

_ But it was merely the wind.  _

The answer echoed through the wind. 

It always did. 

When George wasn’t there to give him an answer rather out fishing or adventuring for new land, the wind did give him an answer. 

It always gave him the same one. 

_ “I love you.”  _

_ “I know you do.” _

_ “Give me an answer then.” _

_ “Listen for the wind my love, listen for the wind.” He pressed a chaste kiss to pink frostbitten lips before running off.  _

The wind was his answer. 

It always had been. 

But the one he needed the answer from wasn’t here to give it to him. 

The one he needed the answer from was George. 

So while the wind’s answer was acceptance, 

George’s answer was gone. 

George’s answer was unspoken. 

George’s answer lay before him. 

George’s answer was his grave yet it was also the small cornflower that laid on top of it. 

George’s answer was his grave yet it was also the note tucked in between the precious blue petals of the cornflower. 

George’s answer was always unspoken. 

Because George’s answer was always written, written right in front of him. 

_ Of course my love.  _

_ It is yet.  _

_ It is soon.  _

_ And now, it's forever.  _

_ It will always be forever.  _

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> my twitter is @blueebeess if you wanna follow :)))


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